


Young Vampire Slayers In Love

by Ankaret



Category: Young Dracula
Genre: F/F, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-21
Updated: 2010-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-13 22:46:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ankaret/pseuds/Ankaret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloe grows up and becomes a vampire slayer, but when Ingrid offers her a challenge, she can't resist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young Vampire Slayers In Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Calasara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calasara/gifts).



**Year One**

"You," Ingrid panted indignantly, "are the worst vampire slayer ever."

Chloe considered it as she sighted down the crossbow. Or rather, _up_ the crossbow, since Ingrid was braced with hands and feet against the corner of the dungeon ceiling and glaring down at her malevolently. "No, I'm not," she said. "Unless we've fallen into a universe where Mr Van Helsing never existed, and I don't think we have, because I still have two pages of GCSE homework about mortise and tenon joints in my backpack."

"Are you sure you do, though?" said Ingrid cunningly. "Maybe you should put the crossbow down and look in your backpack and make sure."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Yeah, _right_."

"It was worth a try," said Ingrid. "You know, I can stay here all night."

"You can't," said Chloe. "Your hands will get tired."

"Eventually," Ingrid said, glaring at her malevolently, "Renfield will come in here to clean, and he'll overpower you with a broom or his native stench or something."

"No, he won't," said Chloe confidently. "It's December. Of an even-numbered year. Renfield isn't due to come in here and clean until next July, and even then he'll probably just wipe the door-frame down with some disgusting rag that he usually uses to display his bogey collection and go away again before something eats him."

"Well, you're _wrong_ , actually," said Ingrid. "He asked your mum for somewhere new to keep his snot collection and she gave him your toothbrush."

"Hardy har," said Chloe, making a face that was about as much like a smile as her brother Robin was like a vampire. "That doesn't even make _sense_."

"When I become an all-powerful vampire goddess," Ingrid hissed, "you'll be sorry."

"When _are_ you going to become an all-powerful vampire goddess?" said Chloe in a fake-sweet voice. "I mean, you already went away to university and you came back again, and it's not like you're turning into a bat or a cloud of mist or summoning wolves or anything."

"There's only one wolf in the castle, and he's on wheels and can't get down the stairs," said Ingrid sulkily. "And I could turn into a cloud of mist if I wanted to. You wait. Any minute."

"I've _been_ waiting," Chloe pointed out. "And all I've seen you do is hypnotise my brothers, and that's not very impressive. People off the telly can hypnotise my brothers."

"The bowl of fruit your mum keeps on _top_ of the telly could hypnotise your brothers," muttered Ingrid.

"Why d'you keep going out with them, then?"

"I'm not going out with them. I'm auditioning them for the position of my brutish minion. I'm going to need my own household, and _obviously_ my father's going to give precious _Vladdy_ the keys to Renfield. And the stuffed wolf." Ingrid considered her grudge. "Not that I mind that much about the stuffed wolf. He stinks Vlad's bedroom out every time Renfield lets him eat liver and onions."

"Aren't your wrists tired?" said Chloe sweetly, sighting up into the corner of the dungeon and adjusting some of the settings on her crossbow. Even with the adjustments, there was no way of getting a clear shot from here. Not unless she walked right underneath Ingrid and shot the stake straight up into her... well, what, on anyone other than Ingrid Dracula, she'd call a heart... and one of the first things she'd learned in her short but successful time as a vampire hunter was that standing directly underneath a falling vampire was about as bad an idea as standing directly underneath a falling anything.

Ingrid glared at her. "Aren't yours?"

"No," said Chloe. "This is a special lightweight titanium stake delivery system with integral holy water dispenser and garlic bandolier. I designed it myself."

"Mr Van Helsing always used to get into the castle by disguising himself as a woman," said Ingrid helpfully. "Maybe you could try that next time."

Chloe scowled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that even if you're _not_ the worst vampire hunter I've ever seen, you definitely have the worst dress sense. I'd never have thought school uniform could be an _improvement_ on anyone's taste until I saw you."

"Oh, come on," said Chloe automatically. "You saw Robin first."

She looked down at her neat blouse, dungarees and trainers. They were clean and pressed, and they were sensible wear for vampire-hunting, since they didn't have any skirts to get in the way or flowing sleeves for vampires to grab hold of during hand-to-hand combat, and had a lot of pockets. She had to admit that compared to Ingrid's tight black dress and even tighter purple corset, they were a bit... lacking in allure. But, well, you didn't need allure when you were going into a dungeon. You needed a steady hand and a backpack full of stakes.

"Unless you're doing it on purpose, of course," Ingrid pursued. "Making yourself look like a very dull and possibly colourblind girl so that your prey will underestimate you. That's actually quite clever. That's how I'd do it if I were going to be a vampire hunter."

"You couldn't be a vampire hunter," said Chloe scornfully.

"Give me one reason why not."

"Well, _one_ , you're a vampire."

"So I know about vampires and their habits and don't make stupid mistakes like offering the Grand High Vampire a plate of garlic bread, and I get invited to all their incredibly boring social functions, and I don't have any hang-ups about killing them because I'm a vicious, evil monster." Ingrid looked smug. "It's perfectly obvious that I could be a better vampire hunter than you."

Chloe sucked in an outraged breath. " _Prove_ it!"

"All right, I will prove it. I'll meet you here next year and we'll compare notes on how our vampire hunting went." Ingrid gave the crossbow a narrow-eyed look. "You'll have to put that thing away and give me a hand down off this ceiling first. My leg's gone to sleep."

 **Year Two**

"This is the head of my cousin Olga," announced Ingrid, emptying the sack that she had been carrying over her shoulder. The head, its hair done up in a ponytail and its eyes crossed in a hideous smirk, rolled across the floor to Chloe's feet. The flagstones were very dirty. Renfield had cleaned them in July, but in October there had been a disastrous experiment involving keeping sheep in the dungeons in case the Count fancied a midnight snack (an experiment which ended with Patrick the Werewolf dressing up in sheep's clothing and Ingrid's father snarling 'We shall never speak of this again') and since then the dungeon had been colonised by incontinent bats.

Chloe looked down at the head.

"That is not the head of your cousin Olga," she said, unslinging the sack _she_ was carrying from over _her_ shoulder and pulling out a nearly identical head. This one had its hair in a French plait with a lot of sparkly pony-shaped hairclips, and its eyes were even more ferociously crossed. " _This_ is the head of your cousin Olga. _That..._ "

Ingrid crossed her arms and tapped her foot. Chloe examined the first Olga-head through a monocle of her own invention. " _That_ ," she said at last, "is a rather badly enchanted turnip."

"Vampires don't play fair," said Ingrid. "Are you wearing lip gloss?"

"So I win," said Chloe. "Unless you've got any more trophies you want to show me."

Ingrid emptied the sack. Another two vampire heads, a withered hand, a mummified foot and a necklace made of vampire ears scattered to the ground.

"Turnip, turnip, crisp packet, old trainer, and oh, my God, that actually is a necklace made of vampire ears." Chloe managed not to take a step backwards. If she could deal with the levels of poor housekeeping in this dungeon, she told herself, she could deal with anything. "Ugh."

Ingrid looked pleased. "I found it in a box of my mother's old things."

"Then you didn't kill any of the vampires whose ears those are," Chloe pointed out with precision, "and I still win."

"You _are_ wearing lip gloss." Ingrid did that zoom-across-the-floor-on-tiptoe vampire thing and got into Chloe's space. "For me. Isn't that sweet?"

"I am not wearing lip gloss for you and I still won."

Ingrid shrugged. "Tell yourself what you like. Rematch? Same time next year?"

"Why would I want to do that? I _won_."

"Because pitting yourself against lesser beings is really boring."

"So you're admitting you don't see me as a lesser being," said Chloe, feeling like she'd scored a point. Ingrid was still really, really close, close enough that if she snapped off an elbow-jab and then went for an overhand staking, Chloe could probably take her out before she knew what was happening. She didn't know why she wasn't doing that. For that matter, she didn't know why Ingrid wasn't biting her. She was just... Well, she wasn't going to think about any of it.

Ingrid shrugged. "Don't flatter yourself. No one's on my level. You're close enough." She flipped a mocking salute to Chloe as she strolled towards the door. "Till next year."

She paused on the threshold. "Oh, and Chloe?"

"Yeah?" said Chloe suspiciously.

"Nice lip gloss."

 **Year Three**

Chloe heard the sounds of combat as she inched cautiously down the corridor. She'd already had to disable a trap in the ceiling, vault over a pit-trap and evade a really pissed-off ghost. Evidently Ingrid had decided the dungeon wasn't _exciting_ enough and decided to... well, _liven_ it up probably wasn't the word.

It was exciting enough now. Chloe's legs broke into a sprint all on their own. She leapt nimbly over a tripwire and evaded a downward slice of an axe from a suit of armour. The door to the dungeon was ajar. She kicked it further open on her way in, and skidded to a halt just inside the doorway.

Another vampire hunter was already there. He was tall and athletic and dashingly good-looking, and he was grasping Ingrid's wrist with one hand and trying to jab her with a syringe full of something fiercely garlicky-smelling with the other. Ingrid was fighting back for all she was worth, and had just kicked him in the kneecap with one lethally high-heeled shoe.

Chloe didn't hesitate. No vampire hunter who wants to survive ever does. She took a step forward, lifted her crossbow, and then flipped it end-over-end in her hands and swiped the other vampire hunter cleanly across the back of his skull with the butt. The man slumped to the floor.

Ingrid was breathing rather deeply for someone who didn't need to breathe at all. It made the laced bodice of her dress undulate in a way that was downright distracting. She kicked the man in the ribs and looked up under her lashes at Chloe. "What did you do that for?"

"If he'd killed you, we'd never have found out who won this year," said Chloe, feeling somewhat short of breath herself.

"We both know who won," said Ingrid, sounding scornful, as if whichever way she went from here, she wouldn't quite be able to believe it herself. She stroked Chloe's cheek with her knuckles. "Don't we?"

"You're a blood-drenched evildoer with no morals," said Chloe, leaning in towards Ingrid because apparently she couldn't help herself.

"You're a prissy do-gooding breather with no clothes sense," breathed Ingrid. "We're perfect for each other. Just think how much havoc we could wreak on those sexist, buttoned-up fools in the vampire world if we worked _together_."

"I suppose it would be for the greater good," said Chloe.

"Yeah. The greater _good_ ," said Ingrid, making a face. "You keep telling yourself it's because of that, and not, for example, because I am an all-powerful vampire goddess who is so amazingly out of your league that..."

She didn't get to finish the sentence, because that was when Chloe kissed her.


End file.
